


Hope of Morning

by Miss_Snazzy



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: "MC" is her name for an actual reason, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Quirks (My Hero Academia), Depression, Empath MC, Empathy, Gen, MC with a backstory, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, The RFA have quirks, unhealthy eating habits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-25 16:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13839087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Snazzy/pseuds/Miss_Snazzy
Summary: In which empath!MC manages to score herself a spot at one of the best hero academies in the country.(And encounters the RFA along the way)Knowledge of My Hero Academia isn't necessary to read this.





	1. Application

**Author's Note:**

> A quick summary for anyone who is unfamiliar with the mythos of My Hero Academia:
> 
> -80% of the population is born with a Quirk (re: ability, not unlike a superpower) which manifests when the child turns four.  
> -There are different types of Quirks. Some are strong and flashy, whereas others are more cosmetic (i.e. new appendages) or comparatively quiet enough to almost go unnoticed.  
> -20% of the population is Quirkless. These people are often excluded if not outright shunned by their peers.  
> -Heroism has become a legitimate job profession. Many strive to enter the Hero Industry, especially if they have an amazing Quirk. Others choose Villainy.  
> -There are academies devoted to pursing a career in Heroism.

 

 

MC submits her application for one of the best hero academies in the country with all the fanfare of checking laundry off of her do-to list.

Mr. Lee notes her choice aloud and a noxious cloud of skepticism follows her back to her seat.

“Doesn’t she just…sense emotions?” one of her classmates, a girl with antlers growing out of her head, mutters to the boy beside her.

The boy, more focused on the butterfly resting on top of his finger, shrugs.

“Even people without wings try to fly.”

The girl snorts and MC slouches back in her seat, closing her eyes.

Another student submits their application and the noxious cloud dissipates, leaving the low simmer of insecurity to reclaim the air.

 

 

…

 

 

With eighty percent of the population possessing a quirk, the market on heroism has become oversaturated.  To be a beacon in the dark is easy—but to be a flare in the light?  That takes someone truly bright.

Brighter still, if you want one of the best hero academies in the world to look at you twice.

MC is not under any illusions about her place in the world, so she applies for the Support Department instead of the much more sought-after Heroics Department.

The difference in difficulty is slight, but enough.

On the day of the entrance exam, the proctor for the practical portion delivers an uplifting speech about giving it your all and half the examinees almost get trampled in the mad dash to find a pro hero to support.

MC picks someone with a flashy water quirk and, with an unnecessary but visually appealing splay of her hands, thrusts enough confidence and strength at the pro hero to have their staged fire put out in what seems moments.

She keeps her hands aloft in the ensuing silence, dropping them only once the pro hero finishes blinking out of his stupor.  He grins wide and shakes her hand, congratulating her on a good show of support.

MC finds herself smiling back at the earnestness coating the gesture.

  

 

In a training arena on the other side of the campus, Yoosung Kim finishes his practical exam with a bow that hides his frown.

 

 

…

 

 

A few weeks later, MC looks up from her acceptance letter with a smile wide enough to make the room around her seem a little less empty. 

 

 

Yoosung Kim tosses his own acceptance letter onto his bed and wonders why achieving this goal only makes him feel a little emptier.

 

 

…

 

 

On the first day of class, MC leaves her apartment two hours before Homeroom.

MC gapes up at the academy, its sheer size no less awing than when she passed through the gates to take the entrance exam.  A swipe of her ID card on the security pad draws the gates open with an approving chime.  Her shoulders fall as some of her tension slips away. 

Well-kept paths of green spread out between the towering buildings, promising a nice buffer between the other students, if one so wished.  She tightens her grip on the strap of her bag and strides toward the building her map had indicated as the location of her Homeroom class.  Plenty of time to scope out some secluded spots later.

She finds the correct room without too much trouble and parks herself in the last seat beside the row of windows.  She aims her gaze outward at the fields of green and waits.  Other students trickle in and she breathes deep after each new wash of emotion.  They sink beneath her skin and settle into an all-encompassing hum.

Anticipation dominates most of them.  And why wouldn’t it?  They’re a class of first years taking their first step down a gilded path toward heroism.  Achieving that goal would require a lot of hard work, but their future resumes already had the advantage with a school like this under their belt.

That eager excitement is a better weight to bear than most.  Far better than some that she has had to carry.

But it’s still _heavy_ and her teeth ache with the jitteriness of it all.

The force of it is spilling out in the tap, tap, tapping of her fingers on her opposite arm as she eyes a bushy tree outside with thick branches perfect for curling up in, when a blanket of despair drapes over her skin.

MC blinks hard and blows out a breath.  She stills her fingers.  The humming of anticipation doesn’t lessen, but it stops making her bones shake.  The despair remains even.

“You’re a first year, too?”

MC turns toward the source of the voice and finds a blonde boy with a pair of dark animal ears peeking out of his hair sliding into the desk beside her.

She also finds the source of the despair.

“Well…” MC glances around their homeroom.

The boy scratches the back of his head, his embarrassment a prickle along her nose.

“Right, sorry.”  The ears on top of his head flick back.  “I guess that was kind of obvious.”

“Not necessarily,” MC offers.  “I could’ve been in the wrong room.”

The boy huffs out a laugh and his ears perk back up.

“Maybe.  But you don’t seem the type to get lost like that.”

MC blinks at him and his surety.  One of his ears has gone lax.

“What makes you say that?”

The boy nods toward the notebook on her desk.

“We haven’t even started and you already have notes!”

MC glances back at her desk.  Her notebook bulges with all of the extra paper she has stapled in and the colorful sticky notes peeking out between the set of worn covers.  She must look quite studious with a notebook already half full.

She looks back at the boy, expression bland.

“How do you know they’re class notes?  Could just be erotica.”

The boy sputters and that blanket of despair across her shoulders warms along with his face.  His ears pin back.

“Is it!?” the boy almost screeches, earning the attention of the rest of their classmates.  Most of the desks have an occupant now.  Must be close to the start of class, then.

MC stares into the boy’s soft purple eyes.

“No.”

He blows out a breath, though his ears twitch.

“Don’t do that!  You almost gave me a heart attack,” he whines, covering his face.

MC rolls her eyes.

_That’s nowhere close to what a heart attack feels like._

“Anyway…” he mumbles, dropping his hands and turning to face her.  One of his ears has fallen lax again.  “What’s your name?  I’m Yoosung Kim!”

MC taps her right index finger against her left arm and sifts through the boy’s surface emotions.  She fails to find anything malicious motivating him at this moment, but only time could tell.

That is, if she lets it.

She mentally sighs and for the first time in a while, thinks, _fuck it_.

“I’m MC.”

 

 


	2. Meeting Yoosung

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tinkered with the school system.

 

 

Turns out Yoosung Kim, another first year like her, had earned himself a spot in General Studies.

“I can communicate with animals, which is cool, but not really something I can fight villains with,” Yoosung explains.

MC can’t quite agree with that assessment but saying so would probably make her a hypocrite—something she tries to avoid when she can afford to.

“So I’m probably going to be a veterinarian.  If I can’t use my quirk to help people like Rika, then—,” the cloud of despair around Yoosung pulses like an open wound, “—then I’ll help animals.”

“If that’s what you want to do.”  MC shrugs and files the name away along with her own curiosity.

Yoosung’s ears twitch.

“What about you?”

MC hums.

“I don’t know if I’m suited for veterinary work.”

Yoosung huffs and MC watches his ears flick back with a small twist to her lips.

“No, I mean, what’s your quirk?  Are you in General Studies, too?  I haven’t really met anyone else yet—well, I guess I do have this one friend, but he’s a second year, so…”

“Afraid not.”  The note of genuine regret in her voice surprises even her.  “I’m in the Support Department.”

She braces herself for jealousy, but instead, Yoosung’s ears perk up.

“Wow, really?” he asks, bouncing a little in his seat.  “Your quirk must be pretty great!  My friend Seven is a second year and his seems pretty useful for Hero work.”  His eyes slide to the side.  “Not that he always uses it in helpful ways…”

MC blinks at each wave of excitement that crashes over her, settling into a growing flare in her chest, and searches for anything hiding beneath.  Apart from a brief flash of annoyance when Yoosung spoke of his friend, nothing else rises up.

“I guess you’ll meet him during one of your specialty classes.”  Yoosung pouts, his ears drooping.

Even this lacks the chafing feel of envy.  More disappointment, than anything.

“Oh, but you didn’t say!”  His ears perk back up, his eyes wide with anticipation.  “What’s your quirk?”

“Uh…”  MC clears her throat.  “I’m an empath.”

Yoosung cocks his head.

The gesture is cute enough to dispel some of her usual annoyance over having to elaborate.

“I can sense emotions.”

“Wow, really?” Yoosung breathes, his excitement growing, even as that cloud of despair pulses again.  “That’s so cool!”

MC straightens.

“You…you think so?”

“Of course!”  Yoosung’s eyes light up, his ears still perked.  “Rika, my cousin, can do something like that and she helped all kinds of people!”

The despair remains heavy in the air and across MC’s shoulders.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s really good with people, but I don’t think she can sense stuff.  Her quirk is mostly about making people happy.”

MC’s lips twist as she tries to imagine a world in which her quirk only worked in a positive spectrum.

_Sounds fake, can’t relate._

“Does she go here, too?” MC asks instead.

That persistent cloud of despair doesn’t just pulse, it thickens, and MC almost chokes.

“Not…not right now,” Yoosung says, ears falling flat on his head.

MC opens her mouth to say something but thinks better of it after how her last innocuous question landed.  Yoosung’s despair is too thick to unpack in a five-minute window.  Her shoulders curl inward with the weight of it, made heavier with the other students around them.

The bell rings and Yoosung jolts out of his thoughts, but MC has already made it halfway to the door when he turns toward her desk.  She pretends not to hear her name over the bustle of the crowd.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, anyone else notice the shifting of tenses when Yoosung talked about Rika? 100% intentional.  
> 


	3. Lunch, Zen Adjacent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for unhealthy eating habits.

When MC steps into the cafeteria, enough of the students have started eating to ease the collective yearning of hunger into a manageable ache.  Even the vibration of anticipation has settled, the students more focused on the familiarity of a school cafeteria than their new classes.  A few lines stretch out from the kitchen, offering a selection of dishes to choose from.

MC picks one of the shorter lines, her gaze flicking to the nearest clock and noting the dwindling lunch hour.  Bringing her own lunch may solve the timing issue in the future, but MC really can’t afford to turn away the free meal the school provides its students.

She shuffles closer with every new inch of space the guy in front of her leaves, the smell of fried chicken making her salivate.  Anticipation of another kind flutters in her stomach.

When was the last time she got to have fried chicken?

With only three people ahead of her now, she can almost taste it.

The next girl steps forward and MC almost runs into the back of the guy in front of her when they both halt with the next.  A wave of…something raises the hairs on MC’s arms.

A strange yearning.  Less demanding than lust, but just as eager for affection.

Their heads jerk to the left in unison and MC follows the direction of their gaze.  At first, she can only see a cluster of students milling about the lunchroom, but as they watch, the crowd starts to part. 

A boy with silver hair jogs passed, his mouth stretched into a grin bright enough to sparkle.  The parted students smile right back, their heads turning to follow his progress.  He slows when he reaches the lunch lines, his vibrant red eyes surveying his options with a disappointed curl to his lips.

“Ah, it seems that I won’t have time to grab lunch after all,” he murmurs to himself, tapping his chin. 

Concern shoots up the spines of both the students in front of MC.

“Um, you can have my spot, Zen,” the girl says.

The boy with silver hair, Zen, blinks.

“Are you sure?”  Zen’s gaze slides passed the girl to the boy in front of MC.  “But wouldn’t it be unfair of me to cut in line when all of you have been waiting?”

The boy in front of MC straightens.

“We don’t mind!”  The boy clenches his fist, his eyes gleaming even as his cheeks redden.  “Besides, skipping lunch is unhealthy!”

The girl nods vigorously in agreement.  Zen purses his lips.

“That’s true,” Zen concedes, gaze distant.  “Skipping meals can have unhealthy effects on both your skin and your workout regimen…”

“Exactly!”

“Well, if you really don’t mind, then…thank you both!”

Zen glides in front of the girl with a grateful smile.

A strong wave of warm fulfillment fills both students to the brim.

MC eyes the trio, wondering what the hell sparked such a strong reaction to this Zen guy from the other two, not to mention that crowd of students he had cut through.  That level of devotion screamed heroic deed, but she couldn’t recall hearing anything about him in the news.

When the boy in front of her walks passed with his tray, MC snatches her own off of the nearby stack and slides up to the counter.

“One fried chicken, please,” she says, trying not to thrust her student ID at the cafeteria worker wiping down the counter.

The man glances up from his cleaning with an apologetic smile.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, that was our last one.  I’m afraid you’ll need to try another line.”

MC surveys the other counters, noting the empty trays of food.  A glance over her shoulder reveals that the students behind her have already splintered off to populate the few remaining lines.  She drops her arm to her side, her student ID cutting into her clenched fingers. 

Her eyes flit to the clock overhead.  Five minutes remaining.

MC breathes in deep and sighs, loosening her grip.

At least most of the students’ ache of hunger had been replaced with the satisfaction of fullness.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I only have a loose idea for this. More snapshots of scenes, than anything.  
> As always, more to come...motivation, energy, and inspiration pending.
> 
> Also, check out [my blog](http://misssnazzy.tumblr.com/search/empath%21MC) for some artwork and notes about this crossover verse.  
> (Including a comic, wherein V learns a bit about MC's backstory)


End file.
